


Hезаслуженная работа

by orphan_account



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Co-starring Revolver Ocelot's A+ Management Skills, Hand Jobs, M/M, Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 09:57:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13785075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: More tales about Ocelot and Mantis at their time in KGB.





	Hезаслуженная работа

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Miscellany](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598175) by [PunishedPyotr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunishedPyotr/pseuds/PunishedPyotr). 



> For Mgswintergames challenge F1- Write a drabble based on an existing artwork.  
> Based on this lovely [artwork ](http://aireyverkhovensky.tumblr.com/post/170520146596/it-is-the-year-2018-and-im-still-drawing) by Airey.

“Comra- Ocelot.”

 

It wasn't surprising at all that Ocelot decided to pay him a visit, what shocked him was that he bothered knocking. He had the keys after all. It wasn't so long ago he respectfully confiscated them, after Mantis refused to let him in.

 

“Bogomol.” No greetings were exchanged, as Ocelot walked in. “You didn't show at work yet this week.”

 

“I have no assignments, there’s no need for me to be there.”

 

It was late evening and he planned to go out soon, of course one couldn't take the little joy left in their life if Revolver Ocelot had access to their flat.

 

“That's not how it works.” Ocelot sighed. “You can't just stay home when no psychic reading is explicitly needed.’

 

“And do menial jobs everyone else is pushing on me because I have nothing to do? No thanks.”

 

If he didn't know better, he would think he just managed to set Ocelot off.

 

“That's essentially what having a job involves, so if you don't want to end up promoted to janitor duty, so you have a daily job schedule, you had better be standing by the door to my office tomorrow morning, filling your very own reports.”

 

Mantis knew this very situation may come, but he still felt mad about it. Because there was no better feeling to hide shame than rage. His lips twitched, but he didn't tell the man how little he actually cared. That would be too self-destructive even for him. Better let him talk and go, so he can get out himself as soon as possible.

 

His plans were drastically changed as Ocelot pointed at the vodka bottle on the table.

 

“Is  _ this  _ what you were doing all week?”

 

Again he didn't answer, but that was enough to express agreement.

 

“Incredible,” Ocelot said and threw his bag on the table next to the vodka, as he walked around the table. “I brought you the most important papers to fill out and you’d better do it right now - I need them tomorrow morning.”

 

He sat down and Mantis did everything to hide the trash bin filled with bottles from view with his own body. Of course it didn't work and he received a very angry  _ and  _ disappointed look from Ocelot, who just took a glass out of sink and reached for the vodka; as Mantis attempted taking a glass of his own he was met with a grunt of disapproval. 

 

“Take a shot glass and don't you dare fill it until you are halfway through the paperwork.” With that Ocelot sat down on the only chair around and took out the papers. There were too many of them.

 

For a moment Mantis just stood unmoving before realising he didn't need a chair and went in the air. Floating by the table he took the first paper and immediately knew he wasn't going out that night. It took him forever to read the very first paragraph, let alone make sense of it.

 

“I don't think I understand this one,” he said and Ocelot looked up from his own work. Wasn't it illegal to take documentation out of the Lubyanka? He was sure they warned him it could be lethal. Rules probably don't apply if you are Revolver Ocelot.

 

“Read it aloud,” he answered and Mantis cursed. He still had a hard time reading cyrillic in his mind, let alone aloud. “And stop floating, it's annoying.”

 

He couldn't say he didn't deserve it as Mantis landed across his thigh. It wasn’t enough to impress him though, as he continued filling his work.

 

“Comrade Michal Gore- yevich Grud- skij, convicted of the crime of tre... treachery at the date of 21st November, was found guilty via para… parap-...”

 

“Parapsychological.

 

“Parapsychological method. He was guilty. He is res.. responsible for providing sensitive intel to the USA, by which he is responsible for the deaths of many comrades in the Middle East. He is sentenced to death. ” He stopped. “What should I write in the blank space?”   
  


“The name of the agent and the name he used as his American pseudo.”

 

So random Western-like name. Mantis completed the task without any complications.

 

“What next?” Mantis said.

 

“Repeat and confirm the accusation and add that you read it in his mind.” Oh, he remembered this case; the order was a clear ‘ _ Read in his mind that he is a spy and find intel about his brother doing the same’,  _ he loved cases that were already solved. Except the paperwork of course.

 

“It wants your signature too.” He said, pushing the paper under straight under Ocelot’s hand over his own work, while  _ accidentally  _ rubbing his side over Ocelot’s chest with more force than necessary. No need to say he did not have much experience with seduction; he still assumed everyone was as easily turned on as teenage Eli.   
  
While Ocelot checked his report and grunted on every single spelling mistake, which Mantis found awfully offensive, he helped himself to the vodka. Shot glasses here were bigger than in England.

 

“Only one,” Ocelot warned as he handed him another report. Which Mantis took and with minor stuttering read aloud.

 

It didn’t take long for Mantis to get uncomfortable on Ocelot’s lap and start moving constantly to get into a more comfortable position. Ocelot didn’t comment on that, not verbally. Instead he put his arm around Mantis’ waist and held him still. At that moments Mantis’ voice flinched and he decided to read the rest silently. Of course that wouldn’t do for Revolver Ocelot.   
  
“I can’t hear you, Bogomol.”   
  
“Because I’m not reading it aloud anymore!”

 

“Continue so I know you fill it right.”

 

Mantis hated it, every stutter filled him with embarrassment and he would really prefer to be anywhere but here. In his own flat. With Revolver Ocelot’s hand sliding under his sweater. He stilled.

 

“Continue,” Ocelot reminded him, as if he wasn’t touching his bare body right now. Mantis took another shot. At this point he’d lost count of how many he already had, but it was not enough... yet.

 

Ocelot’s hand started moving; his voice jumped just as he read about another uncomfortable officer eliminated for espionage. His face felt hot.

 

“Ocelot...?”

 

“Read. I don’t have all night,” Ocelot said as he still stared at his own paperwork. He lied, of course. Why else would he come to Mantis? If he didn’t have all night, he wouldn’t be here, bothering him.   
  
Mantis looked at the papers left. It was too many. He reached for the vodka, but Ocelot stopped him and put it on his side again.

 

“That was enough,” he said. 

 

Not it was not.

 

“It’s too much,” Mantis complained. “I know you don’t need all of these done tomorrow.”

  
It did not impress Ocelot.

 

“I do,” he grunted. Then his expression softened and he pulled Mantis closer to himself, which in their current situation meant body on body.  “Do it until Yekaterina Loryevna and then you can take a break.” That wasn’t very comforting. Especially when there was no order to the files and he hadn’t seen the name in the first five.

 

Ocelot’s hand continued running across his body and he slowly got used to it. He still struggled a bit to find a comfortable position. Mostly because with Ocelot’s knee between his legs and hand caressing his chest, uncomfortably pleasant heat spread from his abdomen across his body. He tried to move his weight somewhere where it wouldn’t cause such shame and not knowing how, he was lying across Ocelot’s lap with his leg over his arm. Maybe he should have put on some pants before opening the door, because it gave him Ocelot’s attention.

 

“Tired much?” he said with his eyebrows raised.

 

“Yes,” Mantis answered without thinking even as he was all but tired. It might have even been believable it didn’t fuck it up by the very next sentence. “Vodka might help.”   
  
“Go back to work,” Ocelot said.   
  
“You are distracting me!” he said the obvious at last.

 

“No, I’m making it nice for you. Read the next report.”

 

And Mantis did, actually yawning this time.

 

“If you want to make this nice for me you should try harder,” he taunted.

 

His answer was Ocelot’s gloved hand, sliding down his abdomen.

 

“Should I?”   
  
Now when he did it, it wasn’t  _ that  _ enjoyable. But still quite exciting.

 

Mantis looked at the next report.

 

“Yekaterina Loryevna. Got her.” Ocelot’s hand moved down his abdomen, to his most sensitive parts.

 

“Read.”

 

“Yekaterina Loryevna, accused of- es- pionage and betrayal of the- the Soviet Union. Information was provided by her husband, Boris Ivano- vich Loryevnij, after he found a- an incriminating letter in their home.” This time the sluttering wasn’t caused by his cyrillic reading skill but the fingers toying with his balls.

 

“She kept s- silent through inter- r- rogation.” Ocelot’s years experience were worth something, as he was already hard. Not that it was that difficult to get him there at this point. This point was adolescence.

 

“She was- interrogated by a parapsy- cholo- gy spe- cialist. She was re- vealed to be an- an agent answering to USA. Her real name is Ka- m- mila Porin- ska -a, a refugee born in Po- land, 1964. For her crimes against the Soviet Union, she was sentence-d to- de- ath.” Mantis dropped the paper. It fell on the table and he could not care less as his cock was stroked by a skilled hand. He buried his head in Ocelot’s shoulder, into the smell of his cologne. Trying to hide a moan.

 

He opened his eyes, just to find out Ocelot didn’t bother to look at him, as he kept on filling his papers.

 

“Oce- lot,” he moaned, at this point no longer able to speak properly. He received a response, even though it wasn’t the one he went for. Instead of looking at him, Ocelot ran his thumb across the top of his cock. The pleasure almost hurt at that point. He tried to keep silent, knowing very well socialist flats don’t do any good on keeping sounds hidden. He could only hope everyone was deep asleep or out.

 

It didn’t take him long to finish. He came across his chest, ashamed of himself. When he got up to clean himself, he was met with resistant hand still keeping in down on Ocelot’s lap. He was both scared and excited that Ocelot may want him to repay the favour.

 

“Finish the last report.”

 

Of course he did not.

  
  
  



End file.
